


(Un)Tangled

by QuillFeathers



Series: Woven Together [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blue Lions Route, Byleth is on a mission and it’s Let Dimitri Rest, Comfort, Conversations, Developing Relationship, Emotional Support, F/M, Feels, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fluff, Kissing, Sharing a Bed, Vignette series, paired ending spoilers, post game but pre S-support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillFeathers/pseuds/QuillFeathers
Summary: She resolves to walk the distance and work to untangle it day by day—loosening gnarls of guilt and uncoiling twists of doubt.The thread between Byleth and Dimitri is stronger at the end of the war, but his end is still a knotted mess.





	1. Knotted Tightly

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking of allusions to Byleth’s “heart” reaching out to Dimitri and well...this was going to be an introspective one-shot but not anymore.

As their teacher Byleth thinks nothing of it, at first. She never really felt closely connected to anyone save her father yet she seems to almost instantly be so with her students. It was natural, automatic, for her to reach out to them figuratively and literally: an upcoming exam, an awkward fall during training, or bruised and bloodied after an actual skirmish. She certainly spends more time with them than she ever had with other members of Jeralt's Mercenaries, and she is incorporated into their camaraderie before she is very comfortable with any other aspect of the strange new chapter in her life. She had never even really desired (or even thought to try) to forge bonds with anyone. Then she blinks and finds herself doing things like helping Mercedes bake sweets for the class, moving plants around weekly in the greenhouse with Dedue, and repeatedly pouring over and discussing texts next to Dimitri in the library.

She wants them to do well. Wants them to succeed. Certainly doesn’t want them to get hurt.

Several months in she speaks to her father of these developments in her social life over tea in his office. He genuinely laughs at her. Informing her as he practically _cackles_ that the students are in fact teaching her as well. At the time she scoffs at the teasing, but the image in her head of the interconnected web that is the Blue Lions and herself elicits warmth in her chest.

It's a blur, those final months. Her father's death. Edelgard's betrayal. The suddenly disconcerting silence in her own mind.

The unveiling of the extent of Dimitri's pain.

Falling to what should have been her death.

Her head is fairly fuzzy five years later as she steps around bodies and climbs the steps in Garreg Mach to find her student. She follows her instinct (follows the thread) and finds the shell of the now-grown house leader. Byleth slowly approaches the shadow out of wary practice while another instinct screams at her to simply pull him into her arms. To help. To reassure.

He remembers...no, acknowledges her, and despite the harsh words and her initial confusion she follows him into battle anyway.

Via the past that he clings to they are still connected but only because she desperately clutches the other end of the segment of the web stretching between him and her. A fragile line barely holding itself together—chaotic turmoil.

Thankfully she is not alone in her refusal to let it unravel further. Rather than cower the former class bands together and hovers, more or less, to piece their leader back together. Day by day and week by week they see signs of the old Dimitri (or more accurately the one who is simply more willing to see the light in the dark). He may refuse their company at meals and meetings, but he at least has more presence of mind.

More battles and plenty of verbal clashes later they both stand drenched in the rain. Cold and exhausted, her lungs do not protest the intake of breath required to tell him he's suffered enough, and it may look like she is just offering her hand but she pulls whatever is between them as tight as she can while she speaks.

Byleth will offer him warmth over and over, until he realizes he is worthy of it.

And when the emperor lay crumpled, dagger on the floor, she takes his hand again and turns him towards that path.

By Dimitri's own strength (that he refuses to recognize) and the support of his comrades, the lines between them all are reinforced.

Byleth clearly sees that the tangled mess at his point in the web is still there, numerous snags still catching, but it is at least not suffocatingly tight.

\--------

She stands at the entryway of Garreg Mach for no less than the third time that day, the sounds of the market closing behind her a stark contrast to the quiet stretched out in front. The wyverns had disappeared into the clear sky hours before, the dust from the small caravan following long settled. The sun was on its way down now for the evening, colors streaking across the sky in a last bid for daylight.

Earlier they had seen Ashe and Petra off. Dimitri had instantly granted permission for Ashe to make the trip to Brigid, not least because it was a good show of faith to what they would need to become a strong relationship between the two countries. Byleth couldn't get over the glee in Ashe's eyes over the idea of establishing an order of knights, and Petra had not bothered to hide her overwhelming happiness at the prospect of returning home...free.

The war was over. A new chapter had started for Fódlan and with it new chapters for all of their company as well. Homes to return to and inheritances to claim. Nevertheless the Blue Lions all seemed pretty determined to reunite for Dimitri's coronation, the network between them still strong despite whatever physical stretch of land separated them now, but the ceremony was bound to be several months away. Then there was the thought of her own impending appointment, and it makes Byleth grimace. All the planning and fussing...it makes a small part of her want to walk away down the road.

A childish whim. She knows she's too entangled.

The season had started to change. The evenings were quite chilly, leaves beginning to fall from their branches, and fires were a welcomes sight in their hearths. To prevent run-in with extensive snowfall those that needed to head home were doing so. The monastery would indeed likely be occupied with more carpenters continuing with renovations and strange nobility attending meetings than friends soon.

The mortal god thinks there is no one within earshot when she sniffles. She's distracted enough that the sound of someone stepping up beside her nearly makes her jump.

“Were you truly sulking so deeply that I surprised you?” Dimitri chuckles. He's draped the right side of his cloak around Byleth’s shoulders. With that and his proximity the world is suddenly a bit smaller, and indeed notably warmer.

Byleth hums and draws the material closer to finger it absently, not that she was actually cold. 

He doesn't rest the weight of his arm entirely on her though. It hovers like a dragonfly over water, skimming the surface but unwilling to land lest it face potential harm.

Byleth is not blind to the way he still puts shields up in the face of some things.

“I will miss their easy smiles,” she answers, looking up at him. She isn't surprised to see him looking into the distance just as she had been moments before.

“It will not be too long before we see them again. In fact I reckon Petra will be composing letters to both of us post-haste on her grandfather's behalf,” Dimitri reasons, gaze turning down to her with a reassuring smile. “How long have you been standing out here? Are you really so sensitive to the cold?”

Byleth offers a smirk that she knows he will recognize as teasing but that she also knows won't do much good to fend against his impending reaction. “I wasn't cold at all, actually, but thanks to you I am more comfortable nonetheless. You did not have to detour for me, Dimitri. I heard you tell Seteth you would be in his office 'shortly' after supper.”

Dimitri's cheeks color before she even finishes speaking, and he promptly looks back toward the sky. Byleth grips the cape tighter to abate any attempt of his to pull away.

“Surely 'shortly' grants me some flexibility,” weariness sighs into his voice. They had all been up too late the night before, trading stories and ideas for the future.

“It's late enough anyway,” Byleth shrugs. “I'm sure whatever thing you need to look over will not blow away overnight.”

“I fear it would only be added to the stack of tasks for tomorrow.”

She frowns, the satisfaction of feeling his arm inadvertently droop that last bit to rest fully on her shoulder a little mellowed. “Dedue told me you got up early to work before we saw Petra and Ashe off. You deserve a break.” Tilting her head back against his arm she drops the cape from her fingers to poke at his shoulder. “You were kind enough to check on me despite being on your way somewhere else, unasked. Now you'll be up even later. I’ll just tell Seteth you were so tired you couldn’t see straight.”

Dimitri’s brow furrows, lips pressing together while he refuses to look down at her. “You are not fooling anyone with how you have been coddling me as of late Byleth. You will get yourself scolded.”

Her lungs clench at the forlorn look coinciding with the sound of her name. All of her former students were finally getting more accustomed to using it, (she was not officially Archbishop after all) but to have it flung back at her in reproach was disappointing to say the least. She rolls her eyes at the young man above her, dismissing his criticism without comment before grinning again with an idea. “Alright. I'll go to Seteth’s office with you and glare over your shoulder from the doorway until he lets you go for the night.”

The smile Dimitri gives her in return, lifting his arm away, is the one that is still so, so unconvinced. “Are you not tired as well? Seteth will likely just put a stack of documents in front of you.”

“He will be happy to have both of us, if for a briefer time, then. I'm coming with you,” insisted as she turns to walk past him and lead the way inside. “Everyone is very, very busy right now. If _I_ don't worry about you, who will? Especially since you do such a poor job of it.”

“As you are ever reminding me,” Dimitri mumbles, already falling into step beside her. He’d apparently given up on changing her mind.

Byleth looks over at him and offers the smile she know he likes. Tugs on the snag in the thread. “Don’t worry. I consider it part of my job.”

She resolves to walk the distance and work to untangle it day by day—loosening gnarls of guilt and uncoiling twists of doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cannot believe FE has inspired me to write again. We all agree all forms of cuddling under Dimitri’s cape are canon, right?


	2. Looped Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise the chapter count's gone up. This is now appropriately tagged as a series of vignettes, oops.

Dedue comes to Byleth first, per usual, when Dimitri manages to slip away from everyone.

Someone of his size and importance probably shouldn't be able to do such a thing as easily as he did, but then again the monastery was absurdly busy. Even Byleth was able to escape for brief periods when she was weary of it all. It also helped that it was long past time for anyone with sense to be in bed, technically they were among the first hours of the new day. Nevermind that Byleth had been wandering past the fishing dock and that Dedue had obviously been awake to notice that Dimitri's door was not only unlocked but also not latched shut. To the random passerby that would naturally be rather alarming. It is just a tell for them. He was there at some point and had been unable to sleep.

So Dedue tells Byleth goodnight and starts for the training grounds. She knows he will circle back after a bit to make sure she has bullied the Savior King to bed if he does not find him himself. Multiple individuals would be in line to lecture them all if it was ever puzzled out that there was an actual system for this. It was no wonder that Dimitri had refused any extra guards during the stay at the monastery.

Footsteps echo off old stone and moonlight glints off damp moss, the last of the year's insects buzzing despite the chill. These are the times of whispers and phantoms: Ferdinand's laugh, a flash of white hair. Bittersweet memories behind every door and etched into every bench.

Irony dictated that there's a pair of flickering candles in the old Blue Lions' classroom.

Papers strewn in a wide semicircle in the center of the table in front of him, Dimitri sits slumped on its surface with his head resting on an outstretched arm, the quill he had been using balanced against the palm of his half-opened hand.

Byleth's steps lighten and stop briefly in the doorway. She had indeed come across similar scenes several times back in that first year. Once she had even found Dimitri sitting against a wall in the training grounds, having exhausted himself into dozing in the middle of the day. A lance had still been in his hand. Then she had nudged him awake with her foot, now she walks quietly around to his side of the table. A few strands of blond fall over his good eye when he turns his head her way, brows furrowing but breathing remaining even. He's out of formal attire, too; the lack of cape and a plain shirt only making the sight more endearing. A few years of age fall away from his features in sleep, yet he still looks older than he is.

“You really are unfathomably stubborn,” she chides, the king blinking awake at the sound of her voice. Smiling fondly she sits down in the empty chair beside him, leaning an elbow on a discarded document to rest her chin in her hand.

His response is an automatic, muddled “Apologies” before he even lifts his head. It's so absurdly like they are back in their old roles that Byleth barely manages to stifle a laugh.

“You are apologizing for sleeping in the middle of the night.”

The soft smile he gifts her, blue of his eye not entirely focused, has Byleth brazenly reaching to tuck his hair back behind his ear. Dimitri stiffens instantly. Muscles tightening on reflex born of battle and isolation. They stare at each other, both painfully alert, until Dimitri exhales a harsh breath.

“Too much?” Byleth asks, hand dropping back to her lap.

"It's...fine."

He's blushing. Byleth can't see to what extent because of the poor lighting. She belatedly wonders if she was being a bit unfair. Sure, she supposedly doesn't have a beating heart, yet she looks at him in quiet, raw instances like this and feels the squeeze of her lungs and blood singing in her veins. Her side of the line between them plucked. Vibrating. She is certain that it resonates back to him.

Dimitri lays his head back down on his arm. Invulnerability shuddering along with the candlelight. “To think of how often you have scolded me in this room,” he muses, voice dripping of melancholy.

“Was and continues to be part of my job, remember? I used to order you to bed so you'd stay awake in class. Now I suppose it's meetings. We can't have you getting caught looking too tired too often, Your Majesty.”

He frowns at her. “I keep telling you to not call me that when outside of official earshot.”

“I keep telling you to get some decent sleep. You can't rebuild as a walking corpse.” Aware that her choice of words sting she moves to bury her fingers in his hair again to appease the injured look he gives her. He won't—doesn't—push her away, watching her warily as she continues. “Am I to watch while you drown in obligation and the rebuilding of your kingdom, neglecting to continue to rebuild yourself?"

“I will be fine." Is the short, unconvincing reply.

Now they are both frowning. Shadows reach across the table in the silence; always feuding with the light. Byleth knows the largest knot separating them is one of lingering guilt and self-imposed punishment. Narrowing her eyes she pushes, fingers pressing slightly where they had stilled at the back of Dimitri's neck. “Do you know that you often carry yourself like you remain at war? Guarding your vital points as if letting others close will cut you?”

“I am afraid you have it backwards,” practically whispered. “I continue to sometimes keep others at arm's length so that _I_ do not cut _them_.”

“Do you remember when you first said that you loved seeing me happy?” Byleth counters.

“That was a long ti—”

"I love seeing you happy, too. You know that, right?”

"It wouldn't do for you to tie yourself to me anymore than you already have.”

So, so stubborn. No, she cannot just cut the knot out, but Byleth imagines looping the line around her own hands and neck anyway, closing the distance. Leaning forward, her real hand falls to Dimitri's chin, urging him to lift his head enough so she can reach him. It's a ghost of a kiss, softer than her initial touch to his skin.

“I am just following my heart,” she assures him, turning away.

The line is taught.

She hasn't made it to the other side of the table when he grabs her hand and pulls her back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing where I write confessions without explicitly...writing confessions.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Twisted Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I offer you this a day early as an apology for my ambiguous chapter endings, dear readers. I am also working on a companion fic for this that will be above a T-rating.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!

He’d kissed her.

It had been just as quick as their first; a feather-light touch of his lips to hers. He'd taken a step back before Byleth could react, posture straightening and attention drifting to the archway that served as the entrance to the classroom. It was then that she had remembered that Dedue would have been looking for them. Neither she nor Dimitri commented on how the retainer was suspiciously waiting a few yards away from the entryway, and Byleth had chosen to part with them there. If Dedue had seen them her presence would only force any impending conversation to be a professional one as opposed to one between friends.

Dimitri _had_ kissed her, and that had been enough of a victory for one day; an answer.

That was yesterday.

Today, Byleth opens her door at a knock to find Dimitri waiting, dark rings under his eyes and a sullen look on his face. He is in similar garb as he was the day before, his posture screaming of exhaustion.

“It's a miracle that has survived everything,” he comments offhandedly, nodding to the lion brooch she still held. She'd just finished cleaning it.

Byleth shrugs and steps away so he can enter. “It certainly has been through a lot, but it's very important to me. Although I suppose after the academy reopens I'll have to hide my favoritism.” She's walked halfway across the room and turns with a grin, only to find he's still standing in the doorway, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.

“Dimitri,” she calls, setting the brooch on her desk. He still doesn't look up and she frowns, going back to take his hand and peer up at him with an inquiring look. “Would you like me to make tea?”

He rouses a bit, lifting his head to refocus on her from wherever his mind had wandered. “No...I...I am not really even sure...” he trails off, something he had been doing far too frequently the last few days. “I am truly just too tired to think properly, I think.” He huffs again as if annoyed at his own words, and his self-scornful tone makes Byleth's chest hurt. His fingers are limp in her supporting grip. “I am afraid I wandered up here without a set purpose.”

Today, Dimitri follows the thread back to her himself.

Byleth wishes, not for the first time, that she had been more insistent in regards to the current sleeping arrangements. She had been firmly outnumbered in the debate about her continued use of her old room, but the thought had crossed her mind several times in the past weeks that Dimitri should have taken the archbishop quarters instead of her, after Rhea had left. On one hand, it was good to have the others nearby in the other student rooms, Dedue and Ingrid close at hand.

On the other hand, there were just too many empty ones.

Making a decision, she tugs Dimitri past the doorway. He's pliant and raises no complaint. “Come on, sleep here.” She orders. It's late but not absurdly so. She would typically read at this time of night, having already changed into loose pants and a sleeved shirt for bed, but now she sets the book that had been left out to the side to toss the covers back instead.

Dimitri watches her with an uncertain look, feet planted at the other side where she'd left him. Waging war with himself.

“I would not have offered if I was not sure.” Byleth says, answering the unasked question. That gets him to at least sit at the edge of the bed, his back to her while he removed his boots. Hearing the second one hit the ground Byleth shuffles up beside him to push him backwards by the shoulders, surprise and his own momentum from straightening aiding her in putting him off-balance. He grunts when his back hits, but still doesn't fight her.

“Okay?” she asks, smiling down at him while he stares at her, the disarray of his hair on the sheets matching his unsettled look.

The blond swallows and nods, one leg bending at the knee as if he's still a fraction away from propelling himself up and away.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and scold him, Byleth leans down to properly kiss him instead, angling her head so they don't bump noses and firmly pressing her lips to his. When she lifts herself up again he's looking at her with wonder, automatically licking his own lips. Byleth smirks and leans back in, humming in approval when his mouth opens up under hers. He groans softly, letting her lead as they explore each other, breath shared and a faint tang of fruit from the day's dessert on their tongues. The tension Dimitri has been holding slowly seeps away, body relaxing into the mattress. Satisfied, Byleth pulls away, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

Dimitri gives her a contented smile in return that only makes him look all the more drowsy. “How are you so small, yet carry all the warmth of the sun in Spring?”

“There's warmth in you, too.” Byleth replies, deep affection suddenly clutching at her. Noticing that he'd raised an arm up yet hadn't touched her, she takes it briefly to kiss his palm. “Sleep,” she orders again in a serious tone, moving away to the other side of the bed.

They end up back to back, Byleth looking out the window and waiting for his breathing to slow into sleep. She's just allowing her own eyelids to drop when he jerks back to full consciousness; sitting up in a rush with an audible gasp.

Byleth rolls to her back and waits, giving him space.

“Sorry,” he grits out, glancing over his shoulder and then quickly away, re-steadying his breathing. After another half minute he drops back beside her, staring at the ceiling.

“Nothing to apologize for.” Byleth offers, rolling to the side and moving close. She doesn't press up against him but does throw an arm over his chest, automatically searching out his heartbeat. “Your nightmares are still frequent?”

She wonders if he is even aware of it when he starts to trace patterns into the skin of her arm.

“Much less than they were,” Dimitri replies. It's dark but moonlight glints off his eye when he turns his head toward her.

“And that's not just because you don't sleep?”

“Hmph. More often than not the problem is merely falling asleep to begin with.” His hand slows in its movements, a physical signal of his hesitation to drop mental walls. “They often...manifest as fleeting noises or impressions now, on the edge of my awareness. But I wake and lose myself to that feeling of needing to look back, to try and listen...forced to constantly examine the choices of my past.”

“Ah,” Byleth starts, starting to trace her own patterns into the fabric of his shirt. “But living with and learning from choices is just living. They will always reflect back on us. You just have to remember that it is the choices of the present that can directly shape the future, not dwelling on ones already made.”

“I know...and yet I still struggle to stop myself.” Dimitri sighs heavily. “It seems I am forcing you to review previous lessons. This is precisely what I mean, and I do not want to rob you of sleep.”

“It's not as if I did not know that you struggle for rest. I conveniently often do not sleep well myself,” Byleth laughs quietly. “But here is your test question: Do _you_ want to leave?”

She had already ensnared herself in him. Likely a long time ago. It was up to Dimitri how entangled he was willing to let her be.

He rolls to face her fully and lifts his arm. Inviting her closer.

“No...I want to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else had Byleth wearing/equipping the Blue Lions brooch the whole damn game after getting it on their birthday?
> 
> p.s. sleep start/hypnic jerk is a bitch


	4. Intertwined

The shift in their relationship passes mostly unseen.

Naturally there were rumors, but rumors were always abundant and there was plenty else going on to keep the general population occupied. Not to mention that there had likely already been rumors to begin with, with the archbishop and king so close. At least maintaining public distance is easy while they are pulled to multiple tasks and directions day by day. It just makes any of their private tranquil stretches all the sweeter, the pair of them sleeping soundly more consistently side by side or entangled.

There's no need for a declaration to their close advisers and comrades still at the monastery, either. Byleth has no doubt that both Ingrid and Gilbert can tell immediately, somehow, by just looking at their liege. They’ve both known him too long.

Seteth is the only one that actually says anything, making a blatant comment to Byleth as she is leaving his office one day: he approves of the symbolically tied future of the church and monarchy.

And it's Dedue, again, that catches Dimitri bending to kiss Byleth's cheek after a meeting. She and the retainer merely smile at each other while the king blushes brilliantly.

Byleth allows herself to express her affection in any small way that she can. She takes his hand in empty hallways when they walk together and leans unnecessarily close at dinner despite Dimitri’s endearing shyness about it. It’s not that she wants to cause any ruckus, but after all they have been through it seems ridiculous to hold herself in check one-hundred percent of the time. It's all new to her, this new agreed-upon closeness, she is just more self-assured than he is.

Which is why she also understands when Dimitri retreats from her more than she does from him when in the presence of others. It's not personal; he continues to question and wonder at the acceptance of his people. His worthiness to lead them into the future. In his mind he still had years to atone for, and no one was going to be able to convince him otherwise. What was he allowed to have? What would he permit himself to?

Byleth just wants him to find balance. She’d meant it when she told him he needed to continue to rebuild himself.

For now, they are on their way to Fhiardiad. Dimitri had been at the monastery to accommodate meeting nobility from the previous Empire and Alliance territories and now Byleth was accompanying him back to the capital essentially as a supporting public figure. It's early Spring, the nights still cold enough to be uncomfortable in the north, but there is new life in the terrain and more birdsong in the air.

Byleth's breath puffs out in front of her in a rush as she stands to leave the warmth of the campfire. The moon and stars above are unimpeded by any clouds tonight, which makes it easy for her to pick out the looming form that is Dimitri sitting with his back against a tree near the rear of his tent. The encampment is mostly retired for the night, the crackle of the few remaining fires and the occasional shift of a horse the only sounds breaking the general quiet.

“Ingrid says you are at risk of turning from pensive to gloomy if you remain sitting out here alone in the dark,” she greets when she's standing at Dimitri's feet.

He tilts his head up to look at her and then to the fire where Ingrid and Dedue sit talking, but she can't make out the look on his face. “I am not being gloomy,” he replies in what is mostly mock-offense. “Only thinking about all the speeches I'm to make in the coming week.”

“Oh. Well actually I'd agree that is a suitably good reason to be gloomy. I don't know how you keep track of them all in your head.” Byleth nudges a foot between the his outstretched legs to make room for herself, Dimitri hesitating a fraction before wrapping an arm along with part of his cape around her when she sits. Leaning back against him with an exaggerated sigh Byleth stretches one leg out to knock a foot against his calf. “Maybe we should go with Sylvain's idea of detouring to the Fraldarius estate.”

He nudges her leg back, a laugh shaking through his chest. “Felix would flay Sylvain and I both. Besides, I am still expecting Seteth to drop down on us at any moment to whisk you back to Garreg Mach.”

Tilting her head up and to the side slightly, Byleth hopes he can make out her innocent look. “I did receive permission.”

“Interesting, Gilbert told me that you simply informed Seteth you were coming.”

“No debating required, so I think it still counts as permission granted,” she muses, eyes dropping closed in content. “I'm looking forward to seeing the Royal School of Sorcery, and what has been rebuilt since last time.”

Another amused sound escapes from behind her, the hand at her waist pressing teasingly. “Not to mention seeing our friends. Was that not on your list? I heard Mercedes has suddenly decided to visit the city in two days’ time.”

“Are my less duty-bound reasons so obvious?” The corners of Byleth's mouth lift, voice all false surprise. “In that case, I am also grateful for the chance to sleep under starlight and open air again. I'm not used to being confined to one place for long.”

“Remind me to show you where it is easiest to sneak onto the castle roof.”

“I'd like that. Pick a meeting to cancel.” Pushing herself up to her knees, Byleth turns to face him, their usual height difference eliminated with Dimitri sitting. For his benefit she casts a quick glance back toward the fire. Dedue and Ingrid have turned their backs to them—on purpose no doubt—so she brings her hands up to trace the contours of her lover's face, thumbs grazing his cheeks and brushing hair back, tilting his head up only to press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

His answer is a tilt of his head to briefly capture her lips, visible breath disappearing between them until they part again. “I love you. Thank you for coming.”

“I love you too.” Byleth replies automatically, warmth blossoming in her chest just as it did every other time he’d said the words aloud. “I promised I would do _some_ work, don’t worry.”

He kisses her again, steadying her with a firm hand splayed at her back, this time not relenting until his name falls from her in a shaky sigh. When Byleth tries to lean back he prevents it, pulling her against himself instead and tucking his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. “All of this,” he mumbles into her skin. “All the back and forth and politics, long days and longer nights and miles between myself and the majority of my close companions. I knew it was coming, yet I am certain I likely would have retreated back into a miserable existence without you by my side after the war. I would not have survived as I am.”

Upon completion, a spider's web is flawless in its construction. Anchored securely at multiple points while its spirals are reinforced with radial threads that the spider itself uses to traverse. A web of human relationships, however, is forever tugged and disturbed by many architects in addition to the original, and as king Dimitri's web is impossibly vast.

Byleth reaches for the hand not already touching her and intertwines their fingers. “Gloomy again,” she chides. “You are anything but weak. You would have survived. Others would have continued to pull you forward.”

Thankfully, their friends are strong radials connecting the spirals of the governed lands, whether by noble title like Felix and Sylvain or kingdom growth in Mercedes, Annette, and Ashe.

Dimitri lifts his head, frowning slightly but determined. “I am being serious. I—”

“Let me finish.”

He listens, as always.

And Byleth weaves herself as anchor threads.

“I believe that you would have survived, but you have survived enough, Dimitri. I love you, and I want you to—we are going to make sure that you _live_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the way back to the monastery they get attacked by some TWSITD supporters; S-Support happens when they return – Boom! Engaged. I'm sorry I'm a nerd I hope the web analogy (his perspective, not hers for this one) makes sense to everyone lmao
> 
> Thank you once again for reading this self-indulgent and hopefully not too nonsensical series.
> 
> I caved and am on Twitter to indulge in all the FE3H fandom. [@o3QuillFeathers](https://twitter.com/o3QuillFeathers)


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